Madhu
by She's Classy
Summary: Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.


**Enough of a spoiler for TSFT lies ahead to warrant my saying so here. My apologies for the clichéd title, and rated T for safety purposes ;)  
**

Rain in India is incredibly harsh, yet all-forgiving. It drains away the accumulated filth on the streets, rids the air of smoke and dust, and turns the land green enough for the cattle to graze on. However, for a small girl trapped inside a home with nothing to occupy her mind but ridiculous dolls, what represents peace of mind to a farmer represents months of torture.

She distinctly recalls a time - a happier time, but a time nonetheless - where she sat, glum and forlorn, in front of the window with her stuffed elephant toy in hand, listening to the rain plunk angry tunes on the roof of their bungalow. Her father had snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her little waist and hoisted her into the air. She kicked and flailed her scrawny long legs and he laughed - that lovely laugh she never hears anymore - and sat her to face him atop his desk.

"What's the matter, madhu?"

Despite her best efforts, a front-toothless smile cracked from underneath her pout. He saved the term _madhu _specifically for her. Her fingers played at the blue trunk of the elephant, worn from eight years of manhandle.

"I want the rain to stop, papa. I want to go outside and play, like I did last week when it was sunny."

He leaned forward a little and lowered his voice as if ready to share a secret, a hand on each of her little bony shoulders.

"You know what, madhu?"

She shook her head, delighted to hear something shared in such a conspiring fashion.

"When I was in Benares I met a man on the ghats in the rain. I gave him a paisa and said to him, 'Hopefully the sky will clear tomorrow.' Do you know what he said to me?"

Again she shook her head, bright curls bouncing and gap-toothed smile now beaming.

"'Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.'"

Her green eyes squinted in confusion at a phrase with meanings much too vast for anyone, let alone a small girl, to comprehend.

"I don't get it, papa."

"Neither do I, really."

With that he chuckled and lifted her off his desk, swinging her over his shoulder so that she had little to do but squirm and stare at the wooden floor as he walked out the door onto the verandah. The air was heavy with rain and the promise of thunder, and she squealed as he twirled about, the fat drops hitting her back and dripping from her nose and hair and eyelashes. He set her down, her bare feet wiggling in the wonderful, long, wet grass of the lawn and looked down at her through bangs soaked to his forehead.

"But I think -" he pushed an errant, soggy curl from her green eyes "- that it means that we should just appreciate what we have now, and make the most of it."

She beamed up at him with her now sopping elephant in her hands.

"Oh. I get it." With that she tossed him the little blue creature and jumped a little, feet landing with a splash. "So we have to play in the rain, too?"

"That's it exactly, madhu."

* * *

Rain in England is just that. Rain. It comes and goes as it pleases, spending more time visiting than away, and rarely does anything more for anyone than cast a dreary gray fog over the landscape

The day she learned to love rain in England, she was standing with hips draped in just a sheet before the window in her room at school. It was a hot and muggy morning for May and the clouds on the horizon brewed gray, streaked in a lovely pattern by hints of pink sky. Her hair skittered over her chest and she stared thoughtfully, taking in the foreboding smell of electricity in the air.

A warm, gentle finger trailed up her naked spine and she inhaled sharply. Another hand moved her hair from the side of her neck and she felt soft lips there not a second later.

"What's the matter, madhu?"

Her eyes widened and shut abruptly at the familiar term of endearment she hadn't heard in years, not really concentrating on much else aside from the feverish lips by her ear. "Hmm?"

"I said, 'What's the matter, madhu?'"

She smiled a little and leaned back, his hand bracing against her lower back while his other arm wrapped about her waist. "I was hoping it wouldn't rain today."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?" The lips brushed her ear and her knees weakened.

"I... I was hoping to visit a friend at the gypsy camp in the woods."

She could feel his smile against her skin.

"You know, a wise man from Lumbini once said that it does no good to think about the future or the past, it only does good to live in the moment."

"I know. And...?"

A nip against her pulse point. "A visit may be in the future, but the rain is in the present."

She grinned and she knew he could tell. His arm around her waist tightened and lifted her, sheet sliding off bare legs that wrapped around his waist. She was on her bed within seconds, squirming a little as he trailed feverish, wet kisses along her neck, across her face, and back again. "So you're saying maybe we should stay inside?"

"That's it exactly, madhu."

* * *

Rain in New York creates a wet web of possible impossibilities and wonderful realized fantasies. The grime of the city is washed away in a lovely rainshower overnight, leaving one to wake up to a sparkling, crystal-clear dawn.

The funny thing about that is that many just treat it as a nuisance. They don't share a second glance at the sky, prop open their umbrellas and continue about their business, albeit in a much more soggy state of mind. She still loves the rain, because it makes her breathe deep and sometimes - but only sometimes - conjures memories of rolling and playful laughter accompanied by roaming dark hands on her bed at Spence, years ago.

_He_ is one such type that can't possibly understand the fun to be had in the rain. She sits on the windowsill of their bedroom, staring hopefully up at a gray, gray sky. _He_ lies asleep in bed, white sheet for modesty.

A drop of water hurtles from the sky and splashes against the window. She wrenches it open and smiles as drops begin to fall faster and faster.

A splash hits her faces and she laughs a little, subconsciously. _He _cracks an eye open, then slowly sits up, staring at her in awe as she smiles over her shoulder at _him_.

"What's the matter, honey?"

Her smile fills her, making her feel as if she's about to burst.

"It's raining."

"I can see that. But why are you laughing?" _He's_ starting to look at her as if she's sprouted wings.

"It's raining."

Yes. She's definitely sprouted wings by the look he's given her. _He_ pushes himself off the bed and walks behind her, looking up at the sky to make sure the rain isn't pink or made of gold or anything spectacular. No... just normal, plain old rain.

"Shame, really. I thought maybe we could take a walk in the park this evening."

She looks at _him_ in incredulous awe. "But, we can still go for a walk."

"Are you mad? No, we can't, it's raining."

"When I was younger there was something I heard the local people in India say; that you should live for right now. Not yesterday and not tomorrow."

_He_ smiles a little, though she doesn't think _he_ really understands. "What's that, the Vedu or Vedas or whatever the hell they call them?"

"No, I think it might be Buddha. That's not the point."

"Your point is that we should go for a walk in the rain?"

"... that's it exactly, honey."

* * *

**A/N:** This is what happens when you're bored and it's too hot to go outside. The initial concept was nothing near what this ended up being... but, hey, whatever works. I namely wrote this because I've never been comfortable with the idea of Gemma dying as a lonely old spinster, but as a sidethought, I'd never be comfortable with the idea of whomever she married being a greater love than Kartik, thus explaining the ignorance of "_him_" in the third part. Oh, and... I don't have a beta, so everything wrong here is my fault ;)


End file.
